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A DESCRIPTIVE POEM 



-OF THE- 



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LAWRENCE 



ALSO, LINES TO THE MEMORY OF 






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JATsTXJ^RY lO, I860. ^ 



JOHTV BI^OT^TV. J 







-OF THE- 



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-AT- 



LAWRENCE, 



JANUARY lO, I8 6 



ALSO, LINES TO THE 3IEM0RY OF 



JOHTV :oi«.o>A\^]v. 



B -ST Fj. ^WjA-IT. 



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PREF AC E . 

Dear reader, you are already informed of the awful calamity that 
has happened of late iu the City of Lawrence; how, on the 10th of 
January, 1860, at 5"o'clock, P. M., the Pemberton Mill fell with 
a fearful crash, burying in the ruins several hundred of human beings. 
After witnessing the ruins, and reading the sad account of events which 
took place, I pen the following lines which I now offer for your can 
did persual. 



THE LAWRENCE CALAMITY. 



In Lawrence City, built in modern style, 
There stood a cotton mill, a mammoth pile, 
Five stories high, both ])road and long 
Although of brick and iron, yet not strong. 

Filled with machinery of curious art and skill, 
With men and maidens plenty each post to fill ; 
All brisk and lively, some full of glee, 
LTnconscious of their doom as we truly see. 

The day is far spent each in their place. 
Suddenly a noise is heard, no one can trace — 
Unearthly in sound an earthquake may bo. 
The judgment day to some, others the fact did see. 

The truth now disclosed some in amazement stand, 
Others for windows leap or whatever is at hand. 
One lady fair the elevator chain did grasp, 
And reached a safe retreat amid ttie fallin"* mass. 



[ '' 1 

She like an Angel saved by Heaven sent, 

The wounded ones to heal was her intent; 

The ruin now complete all material things combined. 

In every little nook or place a human mind. 

Hark ! those groans coming from a living gmve, 
Groans of despair for no mortal man can save, — 
But some are rescued, some with jjroken arms, 
Others more fortunate, escape with little hami. 

Others Ijruised and mangled crushed in the fall, 
Get out with little life or none at all, 
Just now amid darkness, death and gloom, 
The ruins are on fire to seal the loved ones doom. 

Two sisters in some little nook unharmed did lay, 
Slmt out from mortal help or human eye, 
Encouraged by the voice of friends most dear. 
Waiting to he rescued, eacli otlior cheer. 

But alas, the fire in great rage rushes by, 
A voice in despair is heard, "0 ! Mary we must die." 
And so these two sisters did yield to their fate. 
And died in tlie flames most sad to relate. 

A lover, all nerved, seeks his loved one to save, 
And strives to release her from a fiery grave. 
Struggling for freedom, yet fast in the pile, 
The^firc enshrouds her their hopes to beguile. 

All hopes now abandoned from sister or mother, 
Her jewels from her ears she gives to her lover — 
Saying keep them as relics of one that did love, 
And oh, may 1 meet you in Heaven above. 



[ ' ] 



Amid terror and gloom no pen can describe, 
Some loved ones did sing like a new married l)ride. 
The melody tliey sang was like an Angel's lore, 
We are going; home to Heaven to die no more. 

Thus shrieks of terror and hymns of praise, 
Went up from tlie ruins 'mid the fearful hlaze, 
While thousands assendded in vain try to save 
The victims from the liorrors of a fiery grave. 

Now in tlie struggle a few moments wUl decide, 
While friends seek their friends on every sitle, 
Some grasp their hands in hopeless despair, 
Others in great agony moan their last prayer. 

The firemen true to duty are on the spot, 
The water flies in torrents, a cooling draught. 
That they the flames might (|ueneh some victims save, 
But alas, the loved ones drown in a fiery grave. 

Groans and cries on every side is there — 
Sloans and shrieks with fervency of prayer, 
Now at this moment of fearful result 
The flam*' madly i ;: ;i 'mid frantic tumult. 

Hark I a voice is heard, man this rope, bo wise, 
All hearts apalled, the stoutest fear the blaze, — 
A Lady fearless of death mounts the pile. 
Thus reproves the strong with triumphant smile." 

Stout hearts rusli forward take tlie lady's place, 
Tlie rope maimed — tlie ruins yields theii' embrace, 
Another victim saved, from a fearful doom. 
Restored to her friends from a fiery tomb. 



[ s ] 

Kiiouii-li I've .said of sorrow deatli and woe. 
I'll speak of otlier matters you slioulfl know ; 
How some escaped from siicli a fearful ruin. 
And now aj-e well then- work persuing. 

A young maid held Ly tke falling timbers fast, 
A thousand pounds of iron her Ijody clasp, 
Each limb confined by the fatal shock, 
Like a prisoner of yore fast in the stocks. 

Yet by Avork and skill, she was unbound. 
And delivered to her friends both safe and sound, 
How great the joy her friends to endjracc, 
Since delivered from the horrors of sucli a place. 

A lad to escape amid hurry and haste, 
Sprang into a box of cotton waste, 
Anion o' the ruins fell, uncharred and unhurt. 
And to his home returned with thankful heart. 

One man who heard the noise ran into the ell, 
And made himself a safe retreat before the building fell, 
Oh how must he have felt when he saw the building down, 
And those fomiliar friends of his buried in tlie mound. 

Another man was buried among the fallen mass. 
He thought he heard some footsteps quickly by him ^^ass ; 
He loudly called for help and soon received a saw, 
But to his disappointment he found it would not do. 

He called then for an axe whicli soon was handed down, 
He made the handle shorter and hewed his way around, 
lentil from his prison house lie came to open air, 
He fainted, and revived again, and made a solemn prayer 



[9] 

One young man of courage great , Jolm Smith, was his name, 
Found himself a safe retreat, three ladies' shared the same, 
He led them out safe from harm in the open air, 
Tlieu returned to the ruins deep that more with him might share. 

Three more fair ones he did restore to liberty and friends, 
And still did show the manly heart to lend the helping hand, 
Thus man}' have enrolled their names, as history's pages show, 
In helping those that need help in ruins here below. 

And so all Tuesday night the people tried their skill, 
To rescue all they could, their friends with joy to fill, 
Many were taken out much mangled in the fall. 
Others badly charred and Inirnt were carried to the hall. 

The hearse was on the spot the corpses to convey, 

Unto the place allotted them where in a row they lay, 

Oh I sad indeed was the sight at the city hall, 

Where friends by scores and hundreds did make an early call. 

To recognize their friends that were Ijuried from their sight, 
All how they wept, and cried, and stood amazed with fright. 
Some no one could recognize so badly were they burned, 
Others were known by relics that was but little harmed. 

One girl was found a charred lump all burnt unto a crisp, 
A locket did reveal her name 'twas found upon her breast, 
A man too with a broken skull his brains entii-ely sound. 
An awful blow he did receive, no life in him was found. 

Some were coffined up c^uite neat and labled to their friends. 
Others were put in boxes rough, and thus their final end, 
The end to them of things below they wait a day to come, 
When they shall rise and mount the skies and ever be at home, 



[10 1 



The undertakers tired out tlie coffin makers too, 
For very mucli both night and day they surely had to do, 
How many awful trying scens the sexton must perform, 
While at his post Kis duty does in sunshine or in stoim. 

The Mayor quickly gave out word for all to sign their names, 
Who were by any frendly tie connected with the same ; 
Thus to the Essex counting room by scores they did resort, 
To tell about their lost ones, and make a true report. 

Thus by this simple project the story soon was told, 

Of all the dead and living, tlie truth it did unfold, 

I saw the list of names myself, the Mayor set them down, 

A very lengthy list indeed 'twas printed in the town. 

First a list of all the dead, a hundred names or more, 
Bruised and mangled in the fall, burnt and sadly tore, 
Next the wounded in their turn one hundred seventeen, 
Victims of pain and suffering, most awful to be seen. 

Many did escape unharmed, and without an ill. 
Others slightly bruised, were rescued from the mill ; 
More than one hundred fifty, were found upon the list, 
Besides a number missing all burned to a crisp. 

Many are the incidents, I might to you relate, 
I will not mention many, the number is so great ; 
One lady I will mention, with her daugliters four, 
Most eagerly they did escape, as they were near the door. 

A Mrs. Tuck we are mformed, with all her family. 
Most luckily they thus to escape, without an injury, 
Their grateful hearts to God arose, as they together were, 
So on their knees before their God, they joined in humble 
prayer. 



[ 11 ] 

One humble ,soii of Erin's Tfslo, was rericiictl from the flunie, 
He lit his pipe and coolly walked, a smoking of tlie same ; 
For many days a gang- of hands, were constant on the grounds, 
And in moving of tlie ru])hish, they many 1)odics found. 

The Sabbath come they did not cease, in works of love to Ijc, 
As many yet were mourning, their al^scnt ones to see ; 
Great was the rush of strangers, from all the adjoining towns, 
And thousands from the cities, for many miles around. 

l>ut none was there that was not moved, to seethe awful sight, 
Some mourned and wept and others sad, turned away in frioht, 
It made the stoutest heart to mourn, to stand among the manned, 
To see their friends bend over them, in agony and pain. 

Fathers there that never wept, stand over their cliildren dear, 
Their hearts are filled with anguish, they shed scalding tears, 
Mothers weep with deep distress, over the ftrms they love, 
Tlie only hope to some that's left, is in their God above. 

Sisters weep for sisters there, and some for brothers dear, 
While brothers weep for sisters, and shed the briny tear, 
And lovers seek their loved ones, regardless of the crowd, 
With cries and moans of bitterness make known their cries 
[aloud. 

Children seek their parents, with cries and jjittcr vv^ail. 
Refusing to be comforted, ])y any idle tale. 
But there were many mothers there. Angels of mercy sent, 
To bhid the wounds and soothe the pains, was truly their intent, 

Physicians too were plenty there, they came froin for and near, 
They well performed their duties sad, and some relieved of fear, 
Truly the God of heaven their kindness will repay, 
Tliey will receive a recompense, and that without delay. 



[ 12 



Let lis return unto the ruins and see the great display, 
Of all the curious things of art, as seated round tliey lay, 
There are the bricks and mortar, a monstrous pile in size, 
And boards and broken timber, you'd not believe your eyes. 

And then there's all the iron, the gas pipes from the hall, 
And many other trappings, I cannot name them all. 
There are the broken Jennys, and mules that cease to run, 
And looms that throw the shuttle, but now their work is done. 

The spools in great eemfusion, were scattered all around. 
And objects I can't mention were thick upon the ground, 
I hardly could believe my eyes, when I beheld tlie sight, 
I never thouditthat Pemberton, could hold one half the freight 

Some perhaps inquiry make how came the walls to f;ill, 
The pillers they were not so good, that did support the halls, 
I saw them broken, full of flaws of iron very poor, 
And not so thick as should have been by quite an item more. 

And when one broke, the others too gave way in their turn, 
And thus the noise that all did hear that gave the first alarm. 
The walls began to tremble, the floors come tumbling in, 
Alas, the trying moment to those at work within. 

Among the dread confusion amid the falluig mass, 
Were thosie of different ages, the maiden and the lass, 
All buried in the ruins, I have the story told. 
You have it in the sequel, the trutli it did unfold. 

And now the melancholy has pas,-rd*iiway from view, 
I would that never more again its hoiTors should renew. 
This world is full of pain and woe, death takes on every side 
It spares no subject of its doom tlio lovely or thel)ride. 



I 



[ 13 ] 



Thtiii may we live Avhile here below in this greU nature's hall, 
As though the pillars were not safe, that do support the wall, 
For soon these pillars will give way and let the building down, 
Then if we'd live in Halls above we must for truth be found. 



1^ X "P^ :ii: .^ 



-TO TilE- 



Hark 'tis the voice of gladness, 

A family kind and true, • 

Starts from their home in the northern elime, 

The western to pursue. 

They pitched their tent in Kansas, 
To cultivate the soil — 
Thinking there to live in peace, 
Away from all tunnoil. 

In their home was peace and comfort, 
Every heart was full of love — 
Wliilc they all pursued their calling. 
Trusting in their God above. 

There was one an aged father, 
With his sons, both true and bold, 
True to freedom's heavenly callings 
Tliey to tyrants never sold. 



[15] 

But they soon must suffer soitoav, 
From the enemies of good ; 
Lawless men their homes invaded 
Robbing them of what they could. 

Tlius the tyrants now invade them, 
They must bow to Moloch's nod, 
^ Either leave the soil they purchased, 
Or their blood must stain the sod. 

Yes, the ruffians from Missouri, 
Full of vengeance, death, and plunder. 
Seize from them their boon of freedom, 
Sacred ties forever sunder. 

One son shot dead witliout a cause, 
Another mobbed and dragged for miles — 
And every insult on them heaped, 
'Til Jolm Brown's blood began to boil. 

]3ut John Brown, the aged father, 
Never knew what 'twas to fear, 
Only one the God of Heaven, 
Wliose laws in reverence he held dear. 

Now this true and christian father, 
With his sons most true in heart, 
Did defend their home and wives, 
And made the border ruffians smart. 

But still they come from slavery's minions, 
Kansas soil to desecrate, 
With their black infernal slave laws, 
Thus to seal the freeman's fate. 

Houses burned and cattle stolen, 
Women driven from their homes. 
Men were murdered, robbed and tortured, 
By the ruffians, all alone. 



[16] 



And tlicy did by fraud and violence, 
Strive to make a slave State, 
And the President sustained them, 
The hardest villain did elevate. 

Then did Brown amid his trials, 
Consecrate liimsclf anew, 
All he had on freedom's altar, 
The bondman's chains hdll^-ould undo. 

He then pursued his heavenly calling, 
Many a bondman's chain he broke, 
Many a heart did leap for joy. 
When John Brown their freedom spoke. 

But at last he was arrested, 
By old slavery's fatal grasp. 
Amid his work of doing good. 
He must give his life at last. 

This he did most freely offer, 
AVithout a nuumur or complaint. 
Thus in death as well as life, 
He did record himself a saint. 

He remembered, long will be, 

Long as history's pages stand. 
Embalmed in memory by the good, 
On every soil, in every land. 

Those bluody hands that took his life. 
Shall surely meet a just reward, 
If God delays they will it reap. 
For he has spoke it in his word. 



